Imprints
by callmeR
Summary: In life, paths cross everyday. Sometimes we meet people who change our lives forever. Two young women find that rare connection and must fight to keep it.
1. Chapter 1

Every day we manage to make connections with others. Sometimes those connections are meaningless. Sometimes those connections stay with us forever. I'm about to share one of those life-altering connections.

That day started out the same as any. I was in a rush. The last boarding call had sounded over the intercom, that pleasant voice sounding simultaneously bitchy only because I was about to miss my flight. My brisk walk has turned into a sprint as I realize how close I'm cutting it. My boss would have my ass- that's enough motivation for me.

Bent over, clutching my sides, attempting to slow my breathing, I flash my first class ticket and passport under the disproving eyes of the gate attendant. After an agonizing couple of minutes, she ushers me through the gate, past the corridor, and allows me to step onto the plane. I quickly find my seat, stow my briefcase under my seat, and buckle my seatbelt. I close my eyes as I hear the flight attendants begin their safety spiel, effectively tuning them out. I take deep breaths. In. Out. Inhaling deeply. I don't like take-offs. Never have, never will, no matter how many times I'm required to fly.

There is something unnatural about an object as heavy as this plane with the weight of all these people and all their luggage (yes, I'm talking about you, princess, in row 18, who absolutely requires her 20 pairs of high-heels for her week-long vacation) lifting up off the ground and transporting us high up in the sky. My stomach drops as I feel the pace pick up. I lean back in my seat, seizing my armrests tightly. The light-headedness has alerted me that we are in fact moving in the air now like Peter Pan. If I could, I would much rather catch a ride with him or Tinkerbell. Well, if we are making our preferences known, I would chose Tinkerbell because I think she's kinda cute. I may or may not admit to having a crush on her in my early teens. I mean that smile, can you blame me really? Apparently, my reminiscing has allowed the time to pass fairly quickly, and they are already handing out tiny beverages. I make sure to politely thank the attendant who has placed a refreshing rum and coke in each of my hands. I sip slowly, savouring the sweet taste. Soon enough, I'm polishing off my second beverage.

I reach under my seat to fish out my briefcase. I pull out my iPod first, untangling the wires, popping the earbuds into my ears, and sigh contently as I flick it on. I carefully remove my laptop and boot it up so I can better prepare for the conference I am to attend this weekend. I refresh my memory as I glance over my PowerPoint slides and the notes accompanying them. After reading them over for a few hours, my eyes are glazing over. I put away the items and stretch my legs out. Subconsciously, I close my eyes, drifting off to Never Never Land. I awake to a very stiff neck and my foot being asleep. I gingerly move my neck from side to side, smiling in satisfaction when I hear light pops and cracks. Victory is mine! I fiddle within my briefcase to find my compact mirror, ready to survey the damage. I wipe at the unattractive drool that's made an appearance on my cheek. I rub at my tired eyes, while running my hands through my tousled blonde hair. I peer into the mirror again, I've seen better, but it will have to do for the time being. I eat parts of the meal served to me, walk around the cabin bored, returning to my seat shortly after. I decide to flick through the on-board entertainment. I settle for Disney...there's something magical about everything they touch.

At some point I drifted off again, just as I'm being rudely awoken by the announcement of the beginning of our descent. My stomach lurches at the mere mention of it. I hate landings even more than take-offs. I grip the armrests in a death grip, feeling the vehicle plummett makes me turn a slight greenish tinge. I start counting backwards from one hundred, willing the nausea to pass. When I've reached fifty, I've already reached for that lovely white paper bag and have begun to empty the contents of my stomach into it. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I manage to find a mint to pop into my mouth. Realization that we've landed, brings a weak smile to my face. We have arrived safely. I wait until the other business passengers have made their departures before standing on my wobbly legs. Holding on to my two bags, I make my way down the aisle, making sure to thank the pleasant flight attendants. My mother did raise a polite daughter and all, might as well showcase her to the rest of the world when necessary. I exit the plane, feeling the cool air hit my cheeks.

Spencer Carlin, welcome to London.


	2. Firework

**I'm new to this side of the site...so bear with me.**

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**To say that Heathrow Airport was busy would be an understatement. I cannot comfortably walk without brushing shoulders with a stranger. After minimal conversation with the immigration officer, I head to the baggage carousel. I keep my eye out for my neon green suitcase, spotting black bag after black bag...how original. I keep my giddy shout for glee to myself after noticing a possible match. I brace myself, wide athletic stance, grabbing the handle, I pull it into me- flying backwards from the efforts, in turn knocking over a young man. "Shit, I'm so sorry!" I profusely apologize, covering my mouth after realizing my bad manners.

The man chuckles, shaking off the incident, immediately offering me assistance. I politely decline his kind offer. "I'm so sorry for my clumsiness, normally I'm not like this, I think the long flight did me in, " I explain.

"That's quite alright, it was nice to meet you..." the British man trails off.

I smack my forehead, "Apparently my manners have vanished on me as well, I'm Spencer, Spencer Carlin. It was nice to meet you as well, I'm sorry I had to bowl you over to do so."

"That's quite alright, Ms. Carlin, are you sure I can't help you out in any way?" he asks, hopefully.

I shake my head, "I've actually got a chauffeur waiting on me, but thank you".

"Not a problem, my name's Ben, if you are staying awhile give me a call, maybe I could give you a tour," he says, while handing me a card with his number.

I smile, ignoring his not-so-subtle advances. I wave, and head off to find my ride. I giggle when I discover my chauffeur's name is James. "To my temporary crib, James, " I joke.

"Does Ms. Carlin need a blankie and a soother too?" he snaps back.

"Quick-witted, I like, do you have any suggestions for must-dos for a gal with a limited timeline?" I ask.

"Besides me? Hmm, I'll have to think that over, " James retorts. After a few minutes of pondering, he says, "Buy a coffee, take a walk in Hyde Park, find a bench and then just people watch. At some point check out a pub- good food, good people, you can't complain. If you have time, St Paul's Cathedral is unreal. And last but not least, you must go on a hop-on hop-off double-decker bus tour."

"Wow, thank you, James. I look forward to exploring your country, and no, not your southern hemisphere! "

James clutches at his chest, "Ouch, that hurt. And Ms. Carlin, we have arrived at your 'crib'".

James pulls to the curb, stops the vehicle and opens my door holding out his hand. I grasp it, stepping out of the car, admiring the architecture of the hotel. He hoists my suitcase from the trunk (or boot, since we are in London, afterall), and carries it up the front steps. I hurry, to catch up. He wheels my belongings in the direction of the front desk. He gives me a firm handshake. I pull him closer, wrapping him in a hug instead. I whisper, "Thanks for everything James". I slyly, pat his jacket pocket, leaving him a more than generous tip. He bows, followed by a Queen's wave. I snicker, wandering towards reception.

I rummage around in my briefcase for my paperwork and identification. Blindly handing the documents, into the waiting hands. I still my movements when I feel an electric shock shooting through my fingers, stumbling backwards for the second time in one day. Glancing upwards, I meet the equally surprised eyes of the receptionist. I rub my hands together, staring curiously at the girl behind the counter. This girl, this woman, is absolutely gorgeous. "How can I help you?"

Her husky voice stuns me. Helplessly, I continue to stare, tilting my head slightly. "Parlez-vous français?" she tries again.

"Uh, " I manage to squeak out.

She scans over my reservation information, her eyebrows knitting in confusion when she still lacks the explanation for why I cannot respond. "Are you Canadian?"

I nod, still unable to do anything else. She runs a delicate hand through her wavy brown locks, clearly frustrated. The phone rings, and she mouths that she will be one moment. I smile softly at her, bobbing my head to show that I understand. While she is on the phone, a colleague of mine, Michael, comes up behind me, striking up a conversation. He asks whether I had heard about the welcome dinner that all the guests were invited to. I hadn't, so he filled me in on all the details. I ask Michael how his wife and two little girls are doing. Apparently, everything is well on the homefront. He has to be somewhere, so Michael says we'll catch up later. As I say goodbye, I notice the receptionist has hung up and has been watching our entire interaction. She cocks her head to the side, "She speaks".

I blush, nervously playing with my hands. I drop my head. God I'm a mess around her. I feel a finger gently lifting my chin up. The little movement, sends jolts through my body. As I slowly bring my flushed head up, my eyes land on her nametag. Ashley. That's a pretty name. Gradually, my blue eyes connect with her sparkling brown eyes. "Don't ever let me catch you looking down. Be confident, walk tall, " Ashley instructs.

"Says the midget, " somehow I managed to find the courage to speak, and of all things to say, I insult her. Real charming Spencer.

To my relief, Ashley lets out a magical laugh, while pouting slightly. Simply adorable. She gives me a brief history on the hotel, I pretend to listen while I'm drowning in her sexy accent and plump lips. She slides a hotel room keycard across the desk, brushing her hand against mine. Again, I feel it, each time she touches me. She pulls her hand away, and I frown at the sudden loss of contact. She tells me that breakfast is served between 6 to 9 am, that if I want a wake-up call to just call reception from my room, and that if I need anything else somebody is always there to help. Ashley gives me a warm smile, stating, "I hope you enjoy your stay with us, Spencer".

My ears perk up when my name flows off her tongue. I've never liked hearing my own name more. She points to the nearby elevator and asks if I need help with my bag. I say that I don't, and I swear she almost looked disappointed when I declined. I tell her thanks for her help and that I'm sure I'll see her around. I wheel my suitcase into the elevator, turning so I can watch her until the doors close.

I steady myself, holding onto the railing, as I like elevator rides just about as much as I enjoy take-offs. Luckily, I'm on the fifth floor. Room 509. I bring the keycard up the slot, pausing when I notice a flash of pink. I flip it over, a smile breaking out, when I read, '_Feel free to call me if you need anything, sometimes reception can be a little slow. :P I also am an excellent tour guide. - Ashley_' written neatly on a pink sticky note with a phone number underneath. I open the door to my room, push my suitcase to the wall, and collapse on my bed. I close my eyes, grinning broadly, tightly gripping the note in my hand. I was completely off my game and have already gotten two numbers and I've only been in London for a few hours. I think I'm going to like it here.

Fish and chips, tea, football, the Union Jack, and Ashley. Besides diamonds, what else would a girl need?


	3. Tonight

**Just wanted to say thanks to all you for reading and reviewing. It makes me feel like a million bucks to hear your kind words or seeing my story added to your alerts. :)**

**This chapter is even shorter than usual because I wanted to break up this chapter and the next. Hopefully, I can have the next chapter posted later today so you don't feel ripped off. Thanks again. :)**

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I guess I was more tired than I realized because when I open my eyes, they have to adjust to the darkness. I glance to the clock on the night stand, it reads 7:30 pm. I groan, frustrated that I wasted my precious time sleeping. My stomach gives a low rumble, reminding me that I haven't eaten since my flight. I weigh my options and somehow find myself staring down at that pink sticky note. Hmm. I wonder if Ashley is still working? Maybe she could give me a suggestion on where to go.

Ten minutes later, I'm laying in bed, clutching the phone in one hand and her number in the other. I'm chicken shit and can't bring myself to dial her number. I run over the possibilities in my head. What's the worst that can happen, Carlin? She hangs up? Grow up, grow some balls, or in the very least some extremely feminine ladyparts that magically give me courage. My knee twitches and I'm perspiring (not sweating because that's just not glamorous). I jump up from my reclining position, hoping to calm my nerves, but just end up pacing the room. I will myself back to the phone and pick it up with my clammy hands. My hands are shaking profusely as I carefully dial the number left on the note.

I bring the phone to my ear, it rings twice before I hear, "Hello?" her lovely voice floating over. "Hello? Hello? Anybody there?" I smile dreamily, until I hear a click signalling the call has ended. Shit, I was supposed to talk. I guess that's how a phone conversation usually works. Gah, do I call back right away or wait a bit?

My fingers make the decision for me, as I have already pressed redial. "Hello?"

"Uh, sorry about that, I had a momentary lapse where I forgot that phones are two-way devices and requires more than ESP to work...so hi, " I ramble awkwardly.

"Spencer, the Canadian from room 509?"

I smile sheepishly, "Yeah, it's me. Sorry, I'm lacking basic social skills lately."

"That's quite alright, I won't hold it against you this time. So, umm, what do I owe the pleasure of having this beautiful blonde woman calling me?"

I blush, "Uh, I forget".

Ashley laughs at this. "Ok, well what were you doing before you called me?"

"Oh right, I was going to ask you for suggestions for dinner or a snack, I kinda fell asleep and missed the dinner get-together the hotel was hosting tonight. So I was hoping you could point me in the right direction, but don't feel pressured, don't feel like you have to. I can figure something out I'm sure, " I let out in one breath.

"Spencer, you are something else; some moments I can't get you to say more than a mouse and other times you ramble incessantly. And if you can wait ten more minutes, I can finish up downstairs and I can show you this place I think you might like. What do you say?" Ashley asks.

"It's a date!" I quickly reply. "Shit, I mean, that would be nice, and that's very thoughtful of you. It's not a date. No. Not a date. Not at a date at all. You are just being considerate and showing me around. Just a little extra work off the clock. Not like you're an escort because you're not a prostitute. Fuck, I'm sorry. You make me nervous, " I blurt out.

"I find you amusing, how about you wander down to the lobby when you are ready to go, if you are still interested?" Ashley suggests.

"I'm glad someone does, I guess I will see you shortly, bye Ashley". I hang up the phone and head into the bathroom to make myself look somewhat presentable. I throw on a pair of faded blue jeans and grab my jacket and wallet. I slide it into my back pocket, glancing in the mirror one last time.

Here goes nothing. Or everything.


	4. Daylight

**Sorry it took me longer than expected to get the update up. Family and work kept me busy. I know I know...jumping on the excuses bandwagon already...but I will TRY to keep regular updates going. Thanks to all for the reviews and adds and just for reading. :)**

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I walk the short distance to the elevator. Thankfully there is nobody else occupying the small death trap, so I use the privacy to my advantage- giving myself a pep talk. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans as I tell myself to breathe in and out, that it's just dinner with a girl. I hear the ding signalling that I've reached the floor of the lobby. I run a hand through my hair. I guess this is it.

The doors open and my heart melts when I see Ashley in front of me, waiting, head down, playing with her fingers. I clear my throat, and shyly say, "Hi".

The word seem to startle her, and she glances upwards, meeting my eyes. She smiles softly in response. "You look nice, " Ashley tells me.

I turn into a human tomato. "Thanks, I wasn't sure what to wear. I wasn't sure where we were going. And I know that you guys are all into your fashion, so I am probably going to stand out. So I hope I don't embarass..." I start.

"Spencer, stop. Just stop. You look great, we are just going somewhere casual. You are only going to stand out because you are beautiful. And, you could never embarass me, ok? Just try to relax, " Ashley calms me by placing her fingertips on my shoulders. My stomach is doing backflips and cartwheels and other gymnastic tricks that my clumsy self is not capable of performing. One simple touch and the butterflies ignite. "So umm, if you are ready to go, the place I was thinking of is only block away if you don't mind walking..." she trails off.

"Sure, you could use the exercise, " I quip as I poke her toned stomach.

Ashley feigns a look of hurt before slipping her hand in mine, "Come on, let's fatten you up, I need a work out buddy".

I scoff, but willingly follow, hell I would follow this girl to hell and back. She provides me with little random facts on the buildings we walk past. We come to a stop at a small pub called Three Goats' Heads. She holds open the door for me, I nod my head in appreciation. My ocean blues light up as I take in my surroundings. It's a small but very busy pub, friendly people all over. Ashley places my hand on my lower back to guide me to a cosy booth.

She slides into the booth, sitting across from me. "So what do you think?" Ashley asks.

I continue to look around in awe, "I really like it, but I'll have you know I'm not one for eating goats".

Ashley chuckles lightly, in attempts to humor me. A waitress comes over to ask if we would like menus. "No, Lacey, we won't be needing menus, I've got it all up here, " Ashley says, as she points to her forehead.

"Ok then, smartass, what can I get for you two?" Lacey, the waitress, asks.

"Bangers and mash for Spencer here, and just a plate of chips for me, please, " Ashley rattles off.

"And to drink?"

Ashley looks at me, questioningly. "Rum and coke please, " I supply.

"And a jack and coke for the rockstar. I will be back shortly, " Lacey says.

I raise my eyebrows at Ashley, "Regular much? And rockstar?"

"I used to come by here all the time, especially before or after work, since it's so close. And I'm in a local band and Lacey likes to fuel my ego, " she explains.

"Let me guess, lead singer and you play the guitar?"

"Yes, to both, how'd you know?" Ashley is mildly bewildered.

"Well, when I think rockstar, I think singer, and, " I grasp her hands in mine, and turn them over carefully, "your hands...the calluses".

Ashley watches intently as I intertwine our fingers. I stroke my thumb over her knuckles, memorizing each groove.

"Here are your drinks ladies, " Lacey says. We break apart, spooked by the interruption. I polish off half my drink.

"Easy there, tiger, " says Ashley.

I slow down to small sips, enjoying the sweet concoction. Ashley sets her drink down, "Where abouts is your igloo located?"

"My what?"

"Your igloo, you do live in an igloo in the cold white north, right?"

My eyes narrow, and eventually Ashley erupts into a fit of giggles, claiming my face was so priceless. Once I've finally caught on, I tell her that I reside on the west coast but my job has me flying everywhere, so I'm not completely settled.

Lacey emerges, food in hand. She places our meals in front of us, telling us to dig in. I put a forkful into my mouth and fight back a moan in response. Ashley grins, knowingly, "I knew you would love it".

We continue to eat in a content silence. Normally, I find silences awkward and feel the need to fill them, but with Ashley it's different. Lacey comes around to take away our empty plates and refill our drinks.

Ashley motions to my cheek, "You've got a bit of gravy there, saving it for later?"

As I flush in mortification, Ashley reaches across the table to gently brush the gravy away, pulling back to lick her finger. I turn even redder, since this action turns me on. She's licking gravy for crying out loud, and I want to be that gravy.

"So do you have any siblings?" Ashley asks.

"Umm, well I have err had two brothers, " I say, before pausing, "Glen is engaged, annoying as hell, and really into sports, and Clay...Clay was killed a few years ago," I finish.

Ashley squeezes my hand in sympathy, "I'm so sorry Spencer, I didn't mean to bring it up, I didn't realize".

"It's okay Ashley, it's simple get to know you stuff, except my answers are a little complicated, that's all".

Ashley nods, "Okay, well I'm hear if you ever want to talk about it...or anything".

"I appreciate it, but I think it's a little too deep to get into tonight at least, how about you tell me a bit more about yourself".

"Umm, well, I'm twenty-one, I have one half-sister, I've lived in London my whole life. My biggest passion is music. I have a fish named Bob and I'm gay, " Ashley tells me, wincing, while waiting for my response.

I smile softly at her, and she ducks her head, aware that I'm fine with her sexuality. I let out a loud yawn, unable to contain it. "Looks like we should head back to the hotel, you've had a long day".

I stand up to walk in the direction of the bar, Ashley pulls me back, "It's my treat".

I sigh, in defeat. After she takes care of the bill, I thank her for dinner. "Shall we?" She hooks her arm in mine, and we set off back to the hotel.

"You don't have to walk me back, I'm a big girl, I can handle myself, " I say.

"But I want to, " Ashley replies.

Her words mean a lot to me. As we near the hotel, the sun has started to rise, spreading its bright oranges and vivid reds. Ashley opens the door for me, ever the gentlewoman. She accompanies me in the elevator, insisting that she is going to make sure I safely make it to my room. Once we reach my room, I thank her multiple times and tell her that I sincerely hope we are able to hang out again. She leans in, and I wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her in for a tight hug. She slowly slides her hands around my waist, gently rubbing up and down my sides. I give her a light squeeze and step back, whispering goodnight in her ear. We stare at each other for a moment. She turns around, walking back towards the elevator, while I open my door. I look back and catch her doing the same. Brown eyes linger on blue. She gives me a tiny wave and enters the elevator.

I enter my room, leaning against the door. We had a moment.


	5. Breathe Me

**Sorry for the delay...work has been insane. I really appreciate all the reviews, alerts, and such. I'm not 100% happy with how this chapter turned out...but I wanted to get something up...so regardless...here is the mediocre chapter. Voila!**

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Racing heartbeat. Check. Flushed cheeks. Check. Inability to think or speak coherently or intelligently. Check. Check. Butterflies having a hoedown in my stomach. Check. Nervous twitching. Check. Smiling a lot. Check.

I do believe I have a crush on one Ashley Davies.

I slide my body down the door, intrigued and flustered by the realization. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to just be here on business, see a bit of the city, and then head back to the daily grind. I wasn't supposed to feel. I have gotten used to my autopilot setting. Coasting by, focused on work and family...that _was_ enough for me. But once you feel it. You can't turn your back on it. You can't avoid it. That spark, it stays with you. I feel her. I feel her touch. And it makes me feel alive.

I slowly make my way to my feet, crawling under the blankets on my bed. I sink into my pillow, sighing exaggeratingly. Carlin, get ahold of yourself. I'm nothing short of acting like a little schoolgirl who is fond of Nick Carter. Yes, he is the best Backstreet Boy. There is no denying it. I would go straight for Nick. Well...ok, maybe not. But his voice...insert another big long-ass sigh.

Maybe my last thoughts before bed shouldn't revolve around boyband members. Dreams consisting of me throwing myself at Nick and then Justin are quite frightening. I shake off the eerie visuals and jump out of bed. I have just enough time to have a quick shower before starting my day with a coffee and some sort of breakfast I can scrounge up. After scoping out the hotel freebies and using generous amounts of the scrumptious-smelling hand lotion, I finish towel-drying my hair. Since I don't believe it would be deemed business attire to have a towel sitting atop of my head, I pull on black dress pants, a blue blouse, and remove the offending object. I run my brush through my blonde locks. I briefly apply minimal make-up, slide on some low heels, grab my briefcase and head downstairs. I opt to take the stairs.

I take a seat at an empty table and pull my laptop out. As I'm tapping away on the keys, I hear a familiar husky voice say, "You're up early, sunshine".

I smile, "Yeah, I have a meeting that I have to prepare for and then a workshop later".

"Ah ok, would you like some tea of coffee to start your day?" Ashley kindly asks.

"Coffee would be great, thanks. I could really use the caffeine since I had quite a late night."

"Out partying?" Ashley teases.

"Oh, you know, just out for dinner with this really cool chick."

"She better have treated you extra special, " Ashley says, while pouring me a fresh cup of steaming coffee.

I reach for the sugar and milk, plopping in four heaping tablespoons. "Umm, would you like some coffee to go with your sugar?" Ashley jokes.

"Har har, what's on the menu this morning?" I ask.

"Well, we have a fine selection of cereals, fruit, some lovely muffins, bangers, and your choice of eggs, if you wish, " replies Ashley.

"That sounds wonderful, I think I'm just going to stick with a muffin and a few bangers, please."

"Ok, I will be back in a few, do you have a preference of muffin?"

"Do you have chocolate chip?" I inquire.

"More sugar?" Ashley scoffs.

I nod, unabashedly. I can't help that I require sweets to function. I was just built this way. I stir my coffee, humming as I read over my files. I check my email, fretting when I see a few sent by mother dearest. I scan them, them all pretty much saying the same thing. Why hasn't she heard from me since my plane left? I let out a mighty sigh, annoyed that I'm allowing her to affect me from thousands of miles away.

"Sorry for the wait...is everything alright?" Ashley takes in my stressed out appearance, as she hands me a plate of food.

"If my mother would leave me alone, things might be better, " I supply.

"Yeah, dragon breathing fire down your neck, I've got one of those...Why aren't you going to uni? Why haven't you met your prince charming yet? Why are you wearing that outfit? You should wear that pretty green dress instead. Nitpicking every single detail. Trying to run my life. Run your own damn life."

"Seems like your mother and my mother went to the same critiquing class, " I tell Ashley.

"Apparently so, look Spence, I hate to cut this short because I really do enjoying chatting to you, but I have to make my rounds. I'll see you around. You have a good day."

A slight frown appears on my face, and I'm quick to dismiss it. I thank Ashley for a delicious breakfast and for the company. I wish her well on her day, hoping we manage to catch up later. I guess it's time for my meeting. My heels click their way to the conference room. I place my briefcase on the floor and set up my PowerPoint presentation. Ten minutes passes, and people start filtering into the room. I give Michael a subtle nod and mentally prepare. I pick up the pen sitting on the table. I click it repeatedly. Over and over. Playing with the writing utensil. The seats are all filled. I clear my throat and introduce myself and the company I work for. I flick on my presentation to aid me and before I realize it, I'm finished. I'm relieved when I am able to just sit and follow along. I make notes, mind not idle. Soon enough, we are all standing and mingling. I hate mingling. I don't like playing the icebreaker game. Spending so much effort on something that doesn't last. After shaking numerous hands, being smothered in overpowering aftershave, and having my cheeks hurt from my fake smile, I slip out the door.

I find the restroom on the first floor and look myself over in the mirror. Splashing water into my face, I attempt to freshen up. I hear a toilet flush, so I grab paper towel, pretending I was washing my hands. I make the three-pointer and exit the close quarters.

Somehow, I successfully make it through the workshop. I head up to my room to reflect. As I'm going over the material, my thoughts drift to Ashley. As it becomes clearer that I won't be able to focus on work, I pull out my phone and allow her name to dance across the screen. This time I don't hesistate when I press dial. I eagerly bring the phone to my ear. It rings. And then rings. And rings. Her voice floats across to my receiver. I'm disappointed when I get her voicemail. To distract myself, I decide to get some dinner at the hotel's restaurant. I'm seated immediately, since there are only a few other patrons. I settle for a turkey sandwich with a salad. I'm just finishing up when Michael sits down across from me. He asks if I'm busy tonight. I pause, and then excuse myself to try calling Ashley once more, before I answer him.

Defeated, I make my way back. I tell Michael that I'm free, asking him what he had in mind. He wanted to check out an underground club with a few friends he knows from the area. Intrigued, I ask him to wait in the lobby for me while I quickly change. Once I have slipped on a navy blue v-neck shirt with black jeans, I catch the elevator down. Michael is with two other guys and one woman. The woman notices me first, and drags her eyes up my legs. She gently elbows Michael to gain his attention. He smiles at me, and then pulls me closer to the group. We get the introductions out of the way and pile into a cab. The drive isn't long, Michael takes care of the fare, after a healthy debate. There is a line winding around the corner of the building but we bypass the wait because of Michael's friend's connections. I try to hide my smirk at a whiny bitch's outburst regarding us cutting the line. Apparently, nobody has explained to her that life isn't fair and that it pays to know people.

Michael makes a beeline for the bar, while we claim a booth. The woman, Heather, tries to make small talk with me. I politely respond, but remain neutral, not wanting to show any extra interest. The guys are talking amongst themselves, arguing about Arsenal and Manchester United. Michael finds us just before the lights dim, handing us each a drink. I thank him and then glance towards him curiously. He points to a previously hidden stage with a stool and a microphone dead centre. Open mic night. Gotcha.

The light strumming of a guitar halts conversations. I look across the room to the stage to see a hooded figure hiding in the shadows, seated upon the stool. Leaning forward, they bring their lips to the microphone. A husky voice joins the guitar, bringing life to the song. Light surrounds her now, casting a warm glow on her face. She puts everything she's feeling into the lyrics, owning them.

_I just want you to know who I am._

_I just want you to know who I am._

She repeats the line one more time, making direct eye contact with me. Her brown eyes stay on mine as she lets her hood fall back, revealing her brown wavy tresses. Her fingers glide effortlessly over the neck of the guitar. Her captivating performance is slowly brought to an end. Never faltering, she says the line again with so much conviction that I swear she is speaking directly into my ear. I feel her, my heart is thudding, and the room is spinning. She quietly thanks the crowd and is treated to thunderous applause. She slips back into the shadows, disappearing. I stand up, my mind running a mile a minute. Focused on one thought.

Ashley Davies.

* * *

**Note: the song used in this chapter is Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls.**


	6. Written in the Stars

So I'm really sorry about my lack of updating. I went on a trip overseas for a couple of weeks and had assumed I would be able to update while I was over there...but I was kinda busy.

Sometimes you plan and plan so much that at some point you have to give up and just live life. Although I have to admit, it was kinda nice to go somewhere where people don't know me; you don't have to put up a facade.

* * *

Michael stares at me curiously, since I'm still standing. I mouth, "the ladies room". He nods in understanding, and points in the general direction. I start heading towards the bathroom, until I'm safely out of their sight, and then I switch directions. First, making a pitstop at the bar, to gather some liquid courage. Next, I head towards the back of the club. There is a door at the end of the hallway marked "Talent". I chug the rest of my drink, wincing at the alcohol content. I lift my hand to the doorknob and feel myself being pulled back. I turn, my orbs steadying on the steely eyes of a not-so-happy bouncer. "You're not on the list!" he sneers.

"Uh, no, not exactly, " I reply.

"Well, you either are, or you aren't, and you ain't on my list, so what the hell are you doing back here?"

"Johnny, back the fuck off, she isn't causing any trouble, leave her alone."

"Sorry, I'll just leave, " I mutter.

"Spence, wait up, " Ashley grasps my shoulder, effectively turning me, right smack into her face.

We both grimace and stumble backwards. I'm holding my nose and she's clutching at her eye. I can't help but laugh at the situation and soon after, Ashley has joined the giggle fest.

"Smooth move, Exlax, " Ashley quips.

"I can't help that I was born with two left feet and the lack of balance, " I reason.

"Yeah, I can vouch for that."

The banter between us is effortless. I had forgotten how nice it was to tease someone else and be teased by someone other than a sibling.

"So what ARE you doing back here? Not that I mind, I'm just a little curious about my very own foreign stalker, " Ashley asks.

I shove my hands into my pockets and take great interest in my shoes, "Errr, ummm...".

"Feel free to finish that intelligent sentence," she retorts.

"Right...so, I kinda wanted to compliment the girl with the amazing voice, so uh, I was just trying to sneak my way back here to tell her, but Mr. Giant-Love-Me-Some-Tattoos caught me and my not so stealth moves, " I state.

Filling in the details was sure worth it because Ashley's eyes sparkle and I'm treated to her famous nose-crinkling grin. The butterflies have made their return to the pit of my stomach. Tap dancing away...yes, they have feet, shoes, and all that jazz.

"Hey, I know you are probably busy, but if on the off-chance you are available, would you maybe like to head out for some coffee or for a drink?" Ashley asks, hopefully.

"Sure, let me just tell my colleagues I'm heading out and then I'm all yours."

After some brief explaining and putting up with some catcalls and whistles from the immature guys I work with, I manage to locate Ashley. She closes the gap between us and places her hand on the small of my back, leading me out of the establishment. Her touch sends heat through my body. This small gesture means a lot; it's wonderful to be taken care of. Once we reach the sidewalk, she asks if it's alright if we stop at her place so she can quickly change. I see no problem with it, so am quick to agree.

Her apartment isn't far from the club. Ashley punches in her code and then we make our way to the elevator. She presses the button incessantly.

"Just because you push the button repeatedly, it doesn't make it come any faster, " I joke.

Ashley snickers, while I just shake my head and laugh at her antics. After a couple minutes of waiting, and putting up with her inability to stay still, the elevator makes its appearance. We shuffle inside and I take a deep breath. This is when I start to shake slightly, damn nerves. Ashley notices immediately, and slips her hand in mine. It's settling and when I hear the ding signalling our arrival, I grimace. She surprises me by continuing to hold my hand, guiding me to her door.

Ashley turns her key in the lock and cracks the door open, "So this is my humble abode."

My eyes are glued to memorizing every single detail. The place is homely, warm color hues are featured on each wall, while framed photographs accent the rooms. I come to rest in the entrance hallway, captivated by a single picture. The framed picture consists of a pint-sized Ashley with messy curls, holding on to giant acoustic guitar that was much too big for her tiny fingers. Her toothy grin spreads to my face as I continue to study the photo. I notice the flecks of green in her brown eyes. I notice her sun-skissed skin. I notice one bare foot, while the other foot has a bright green sock with a sandal atop. But most of all, I notice that I want a miniature Ashley around. And that thought doesn't entirely freak me out.

"I wasn't exactly a fashion icon back then, so you will have to forgive the socks with sandals look. I'm going to change now. If you just take your first right at the end of the hallway, you can have a seat on a couch in the living room."

I sink into one of the luxurious suede couches and twiddle my thumbs, trying to pass the time. It's not too long before Ashley walks into the room with a tray of steaming coffee mugs. I can't help but stare at her ass, as the Lululemons hug to her curves.

"My eyes are up here, Spence."

I splutter, shocked that I was caught, muttering a sorry.

"I'll let it slide this time, as long as you aren't hanging out with me for my body."

"No, no, no, that's not the case at all, I really enjoy spending time with you, " I defend myself.

"I was just teasing you, so do I, " Ashley says, handing me a mug before placing a giant box of sugar cubes in front of my place, "and that's for your impending cavities."

I choose to ignore her, and plop the cubes into my cup, and putting one in my mouth. I savour the melting sugary goodness. I smile when she chooses to slide onto the couch beside me.

"I know it's not exactly a coffee shop, but my coffee maker seems to do the trick, and plus this way we get a little more peace and quiet, " she states.

I nod my agreeance, and we continue talking about anything and everything. She is quite the conversationalist and a very attentive listener. We share childhood memories, tales of horrid family vacations, talk about work, and goals and dreams. I feel comfortable with Ashley and when she finishes up her latest embarrassing story, I think she does as well.

I relax into the couch, content to learn every detail, past and present about Ashley Davies.


	7. Find Me

**A/N: I'm slowly adjusting to being back to work. But my body hasn't quite gotten in synch with my current continent. Oh random note: I forgot how much I loved 10 Things I Hate About You. The script is witty and the cast is pretty decent. Yes, I'm promoting a movie that's over ten years old and is a chick flick.**

**I wanted to give a special shout out to _imaferrari_ your words motivate me...obviously not fast enough, though. I'm kind of a procrastinator. So thank you for your pretty consistent reviews...it definitely keeps me going. And to everyone else, whether you review, alert, favorite, or just simply read: Thank you! :)**

**Also, please head to youTube to view the SON promos...I don't know if the 100,000 views thing is true or not...but I don't want to miss out on the chance of having a SON movie. So please go check it out!**

**Love is an ever changing feeling. You fall in, out, move on, forget, pine, forgive, hope. On repeat. Sometimes it's always the same subject...sometimes that image fades. Sometimes it transforms. You're never quite prepared. And sometimes. Sometimes you never fall out of it.**

* * *

I reach out desperately trying to catch all the ice cream cones falling from the sky. I'm no match for Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, ending up with some mixed in with my blonde hair. I then settle for juggling the cones I was able to successfully catch, while twirling a hoola hoop around my waist. I hear a rich laugh coming from my right. I crack one eye open and my cheeks flush as I realize I had fallen asleep and was moving around like a mad woman in my sleep.

"Man, I wish I had gotten that on camera, " Ashley teases.

I shove her in retaliation, and cross my arms over my chest like a five-year old who didn't get their way. "I can't control myself when I'm asleep, geeze, you and your high expectations, we all don't sleep like the royal highness."

She smiles and nods, just to appease me then gets up and leaves the room without a word.

"What the hell? I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just not exactly a morning person. I didn't mean to offend you, " I explain as I chase after her.

But when I reach the kitchen, I realize she wasn't mad at all...just being a sweet host, starting breakfast and coffee. A woman after my heart. She's got two big bowls on the island, a jumbo box of Fruit Loops, a carton of milk, and two mugs. She hands me a spoon, pouring a large portion of cereal into her bowl, topping it with milk. I copy her, but leave the dairy out, preferring the lone taste of the fruity goodness in my mouth. She quirks her eyebrow at me, obviously amused by my choice. I sit on one of the stools by the island, Ashley just shakes her head at me and exits the room. I tilt my head in confusion, then follow her to find out what she's up to now. I find her cross-legged on the couch laughing like a hyena at old school Looney Tunes. I sit down next to her, enjoying the Sunday morning cartoons. She fills both of our mugs with a lovely dark roast, wordlessly handing me the sugar. We both sip our coffees contently. Without even noticing, Ashley's soft hand has found its way onto my thigh, she's absentmindedly rubbing her thumb in circles. We watch another episode in the cartoon marathon in the same position, before she clears her throat to ask me if I want a shower. I graciously thank her and she shows me around and supplies me with a towel and some spare casual clothes.

Feeling refreshed after my shower and in a slightly goofy mood, I eye the foggy mirror in the bathroom and draw a smiley face and sign my initials next to it. Childish, I know, but I couldn't resist. I pull on the clean clothes Ashley gave me and leave my hair to air dry. Screw the old wives' tale about catching a cold. I make my way back to the living room, finding Ashley sitting on the couch, lightly strumming her acoustic guitar in her lap. She's singing softly. I linger in the doorway, not wanting to break the trance. Unfortunately, my clumsy self has other ideas, and I stub my toe, cursing loudly. Startled, Ashley looks up, somewhat sheepishly.

"I didn't know how long you would be, and I got hit with inspiration, so yeah..." Ashley trails off.

"Hey, it's not a problem, don't let me stop you, I was really digging it, " I reply.

Digging it? Really, Spencer? I mentally slap myself. Ashley makes me a nervous wreck. My mouth working faster than my brain.

"Is that still considered a compliment like it was back in the '90's?" Ashley pesters me.

I open my mouth, but no insult comes out...because I can't. When it comes to her music...I just can't. It moves me. She moves me. In more ways than one (if you get my drift).

Ashley places her index finger on the bottom of my chin, gently lifting. She's meaning to make me less of a venus fly-trap, but my eyes float down to her pink lips. She meets my eyes, almost as if she's challenging me. I take a small step forward, never letting my eyes leave hers. I cup her cheek, ever so slowly closing the distance. I feel her breath against my cheek. I close my eyes in anticipation and then they snap open when the shrill sounding of her phone's ringtone interrupts our moment. We were so close. I was so close. She looks down, apologetically.

I gather our mugs and bowls and make myself useful, putting together a load of dishes, while she deals with the phone call. After tidying, I run my hands through my hair. What just happened? I take a seat on the stool again, letting my feet dangle. I let the what-ifs run through my head and they blur with my wishes and dreams. I want her. That's undeniable. The thing is, am I prepared to fall for someone who lives across the world?

Another thought occurs to me: I think I already did.


	8. Out of the Sky

So you can thank _imaferrari_ for a slightly longer chapter. Keep in mind, I do take suggestions into considerations. So feel free to review or PM me...I don't bite, I promise.

Laundry leading up to a great trip, I have no problem with because that's part of the excitement and getting ready. Laundry afterward, now that just sucks. Any takers for doing mine? I swear if I let it sit long enough, it might just do itself, you think?

* * *

Ashley places a delicate hand on my shoulder, stirring me from my thoughts. I spin around, feeling her intense gaze. The mood has shifted. She wants me, that much is clear. She closes in, wrapping her arms around me, encasing me in a light vanilla scent, pressing her cheek against mine, melding our bodies as one. The hug captures everything. She slowly pulls back, giving me a shy smile. Ashley brings her lips to my ear to whisper an apology. I shake my head, not necessary.

I open my mouth to speak but have difficulties. I don't want to voice my thoughts aloud. Ashley notices my hesitancy, and intertwines her fingers with mine. She calms me, my heart swells at the small gestures.

"What is it, Spence?" her husky voice fills the air.

I look down, attempting to find my words.

"I don't want to leave yet."

"Honey, I wouldn't dream of kicking you out. You don't have to leave, not now, not ever, " Ashley tries to ease my concerns.

"No, I'm talking about my flight. I leave tonight." I supply.

"Oh..." Ashley looks crestfallen.

I want to wipe that look off her face, so I lean in and give her a tight hug. She buries her face in my neck, sighing heavily.

"I don't want you to leave yet either, " she murmurs softly.

"Now that we have that settled, instead of dwelling on the shittyness, how about we make the most of the day, the most of our remaining time together."

She nods, letting me know she is going to quickly shower and then we can head out.

My thoughts drift to a wet, naked Ashley under the spray. Tanned, toned body being splashed with water. Mmmm, my current thoughts are worth far more than a penny. Those mental images are quickly replaced with my favorite new sight- Ashley Davies in only a towel. God is definitely a woman with taste. She steps towards me and her lips are moving but for the life of me I'm too focused on that tiny towel covering her to make out what she's saying. She snaps her fingers in front of my face.

"Hmm?"

"I was asking you if you would be up for a picnic in the park nearby." Ashley explains.

"A picnic? I've never been on a picnic before." I respond.

"Well, may I have the honour of taking Miss Carlin, with the fine-tuned artistic ability, out for her first picnic extravaganza? I liked your drawing on the mirror, by the way, " Ashley bats her eyelashes at me.

A grin stretches across my face. Who in their right mind could refuse Ashley Davies, let alone Ashley Davies in an itty bitty towel? Certainly, not I. With the plans made, she heads off to her bedroom to put on some appropriate attire. After, we set off to the nearest grocery store picking out some food. We head back to her place, where we put the finishing touches on our picnic. Ashley finds it necessary for me to be blindfolded, which I'm not so fond of. I mean a blindfold in certain circumstances, I'm game, but I want to see the brown-eyed beauty. I'm just about to peel it off, when I feel her hand on top of my hand.

"We're here, " Ashley whispers into my ear.

I shudder slightly. She tells me to stay put and comes around to the passenger side to open my door. She gently reaches up and unties my blindfold. I squint at the sudden brightness, so she stands in front of me, to block the sun. She takes my hand in hers and leads me to the boot of her car. Popping it open, I let out a squeal of delight when I'm greeted with a full on picnic basket. I can't help but have the Teddy Bear's Picnic Song float into my head. I take in me surroundings and am at a loss for words. The area is slightly wooded, but opens up into a small pond, with a thick grassy hilltop overlooking the scene. No other souls are present besides the odd furry friend. I kiss Ashley's cheek, before skipping off playfully. If I'm not mistaken, Ashley turns a pinkish hue. As I get better acquainted with nature, Ashley unloads our goodies and sets up a blanket. My eyes connect with hers and I smile goofily at her.

"You ready for some fan-freaking-tastic grub?" Ashley calls out.

I pretend to ponder for a moment, before traipsing over, snaking my arms around her waist, nipping at her ear lobe.

"That's good eats, I'm full, " I tease.

"But you haven't even sampled dessert yet, " Ashley whines.

I look at her, and she realizes the double-meaning behind her words. She swallows visibly, as I glide my fingertips up her sides. I pull away before it gets too heated, and I settle on the plaid blanket. I'm quick to determine her feast is delicious...mostly I helped in the kitchen by staying away. We pack away the remaining food, and sit back down, my head finding purchase on her shoulder. We sit together content, enjoying the scenery and each other. I stifle a yawn, as the moment is quite soothing.

"Relax Spence, I've got you, " Ashley mumbles against my skin.

I find my head in her lap, with her fingers gently running through my hair. When her fingertips dig slightly into my scalp, I let out a small sigh. She leans forward to press her lips against my temple, quick to stroke her thumb against the mark.

"Thank you, thank you for today, thank you for everything, Ash."

"Anything for you. So what time does your flight leave?"

"Nine. But you know the whole airport bullshit...gotta be there three hours in advance."

"Do you have a ride?"

"I was planning on just getting a cab."

"Nonsense. I'm driving you, " Ashley stubbornly states.

"I'd like that."

"So we should probably think about heading back."

We place the remnants of our picnic into her car, before we get into the car ourselves, Ashley pulls out a camera that was hiding in the backseat. She sets it up on the roof of her car, and runs in my direction, she stands beside me, tucking her chin on my shoulder and looping her arm around my waist. Soon enough the shutter chimes. She picks up her camera and we drive the short way back to her place. We place the food in her fridge, and she grabs her purse. It's decided we stop by the hotel to pick up my luggage and head straight to the airport. The drive is silent, both of us aware of the fate that awaits us. She pulls into the parking lot, exits the vehicle, pulling my suitcase behind her. We fought, but that girl is stubborn, so she won.

She slips her hand into mine again, and I bite back tears. These moments we share are far too short-lived. I stop walking, unable to ignore the weight crushing my chest. Wordlessly, she wraps her arms around me. I clutch her back, needing the closeness, needing her. She intertwines our hands again, leading us along to the check-in counter. I hand over my documents and am given a boarding pass in exchange; I'm relieved of my giant suitcase. We check the departure timetables and I'm finally able to smile- LHR-YVR delayed. Normally, I would be pissed as hell, but this means more Ashley time, two more hours to be exact.

We find a bench to sit on. We talk about mindless matter before turning to the topic of us. There is an "us", neither Ashley nor I want to deny that fact. We discuss the possibilities of what the future holds. Both of us willing to make sacrifices because we know how rare this connection is. Before long, it's time for me to clear security, to leave the girl behind. I'm pulled to my feet, once again guided along. We stop before the line, her arms wrapping around my neck, as I slip mine around her waist. I hold her so tightly, and feel teardrops stream down my face.

"It's okay, baby, " Ashley utters, wiping away the salty wetness. Pressing light kisses against my cheeks.

"I guess this is it...our goodbye, " I mumble.

Ashley closes in on me, capturing my lower lip between hers. Swiping her tongue across, she kisses each corner of my mouth. Her tongue darts out, parting my lips carefully, she frames my face with her free hand. When Ashley's tongue meets mine, I realize this is what I've been waiting for my whole life. I grasp her hips, pulling her against me, as she lightly sucks the tip of my tongue. I moan, responding, by circling her. I brush my lips against her, tenderly, before tugging gently on her bottom lip. I peck her lips and then press my lips against hers, keeping them still. Unmoving. Saying more with this inaction.

"Not even close, " Ashley replies.


	9. Otherside

**I'm sorry I've been away for so long. It was never my intention. I've been around the world and now I'm back with an idea for a direction that I'm taking this story in, so please try to bear with me.**

**Listen to "Sober" by Kelly Clarkson. The line "Pick the weeds and keep the flowers" is stuck in my head. Who is the person you keep around that's toxic?**

* * *

Curious fingers rip at the sealed envelope. I lift the flap and pull out the contents: a photograph, a pink post-it note, and a guitar pick. Unsteady digits trace the 5x7 in my hands. She's so beautiful. And so far away. The picture captures a simple moment caught while picnicking. Her smile is radiant and her eyes sparkle. I look happy. Content with who I am. The post-it reads "I miss you". Glancing at the clock, I register that it's two in the morning in London. Too early too call, dammit. I miss Ashley. We've been playing phone tag for the past six months. Skype dates, text messages, and emails. We aren't even official yet and this long-distance shit is pissing me off. My career has been sending me all around the world, but unfortunately not to London. We've been gaining clients faster than we're prepared for. My boss wants me to continue to promote our name and network with as many nationalities as possible. Having steady work is nice for once.

My phone vibrates on my desk. I eagerly reach for it. Disappointment replaces my excitement; it's a message from Mother Dearest: "Dinner tomorrow at six o'clock sharp. XO XO Mom" I let out a long sigh. I have no valid excuse for skipping out. It's my first weekend home in quite some time. I really should spend some time with family. After weighing my options I send off a quick confirmation to my mother and then phone Michael for some distraction. I could definitely use some drinks before heading into the dungeon tomorrow. He tells me to show at the nearby pool hall in an hour. I raid my cabinets and successfully pull out a bottle of Disaronno and a high-ball glass. I toss some ice in and proceed to pour a healthy amount of the Italian beverage. I polish off my drink and change. I opt for layering tonight. My tight v-neck offers a free show of the girls so I slip my Calgary Flames hoodie over my head. It's great deception- people assume I'm from out-of-town. I call a cab, flick on the television and plop down on my couch to wait. I'm able to watch an old re-run of Friends before my ride arrives. The yellow car has me at the pool hall in less than ten minutes. I get out of the vehicle, and am immediately attacked by two strong arms around my waist.

"I've got pepper spray!" I warn.

"Spencer, that's not necessary, " Michael supplies.

I smack him, after I put my weapon back in my purse. Michael laughs off my suggestion to nix the element of surprise when greeting colleagues. I let it be known that he may just lose one nut if he isn't careful. He chuckles, until he realizes I'm serious. I don't mess around. He semi redeems himself after saying the first round is on him, leading me into the billiards hall. We spy a free table and amble over to claim it. Michael puts himself to use racking the balls while I wave down a waitress to get us set up with some drinks. He makes a point of deliberately putting the balls in the wrong spot and then grabs a cue stick and takes position. His aim is off. I know it. He knows it. He cocks his stick back, and lets it go, wildly. His stick connects with the cue ball, sending it sailing into the eight-ball, which bounces off the table and lands in our neighbour's beer with a splash. Michael was never one for subtelty. I try to hide my smirk, while Michael keeps his gaze downward, counting. 5, 4, 3, 2...Mr. Beefy Biker Dude is pissed. And just as quick as his anger appeared, it's gone. You can see the wheels turning on this big oaf. He strides over to Michael and thrusts the ball into his palm, "You aren't from around here are you, buddy?"

Michael pretends to look confused, "Who, me?".

"Yeah, you. Around here, it's a requirement to play the locals first before you get your own table. For money."

"Hmmm, " Michael contemplates this new piece of information. He backs up slowly, adding the uncertainty for effect.

"I'm not so sure about that, I am a newb and all, I don't want to go embarassing myself or anything, " Michael lies.

He stalls, looking over at me. I guess it's my turn to join his ridiculous charade. I approach the table slowly, two drinks in my hand, overplaying how much liquor I've already consumed.

With my game face on, I innocently ask my "sweetheart" what he's gotten himself into.

"A friendly wager, blondie, " Mr. Beefy answers for Michael.

I hide my grimace at the god-forsaken nickname and look to Michael for confirmation. He nods, giving me the green light.

"Honey, I can't leave you alone for a second can I?" I shake Michael lightly and turn to the biker, "Well, golly sir, do you think two thousand would be enough for a pairs game? It's the only cash I've got".

Mr. Beefy's eyes light up. He nods eagerly, "Yes, babe, that'll do. Also, a word of advice, you really shouldn't be flashing the enemy's gear around these parts, ".

"What do you mean?" I point to my shirt, "this old thing?".

"Yeah, that piece of garbage. You shouldn't waste your money on supporting losers like the Flames".

I bite my tongue, trying not to divulge that I'm a Flames hater too. That I'm actually a huge 'Nucks fan and this is part of my act. But I manage to retort, "Iginla rocks!".

Michael coughs, failing at hiding his grin, but tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum are too caught up in figuring out what they will do with their winnings to notice. We shake their hands and insist that they rack up and break, since we are much too clumsy for that. Beefy's buddy sets it up and sinks a ball, continues and sinks two more. I wink at Michael. He nods, in understanding. He steps up, carefully aims and sinks one more for them.

"Shit!" I exclaim.

The buddies high-five each other while saying they've got this in the bag. Beefy gives me a not-so-sexy smile while trying to pull off a shot behind his back. Fancy moves fail him, he misses and sinks the cue ball. I amp up my false stupidity, casually picking up the ball, and ask, "What do I do with this now boys?".

They explain that I have the liberty to place it wherever my heart desires as long as it's behind the marking. I place the ball down with a slight thud, "Here goes nothing".

I sink one ball (since I don't want to make it too obvious). I smile cutely at them, "Yay, my first hole in one!"

They snicker to themselves, while I continue to sink two more balls. That seems to do the trick. They are no longer smiling, realizing their odds of winning are disintegrating. I aim and clear up the table, leaving just the eight-ball left. I point to the far corner pocket. I pull back my cue and let go, successfully sinking the eight-ball. Applause is heard around the room as everybody had abandonned their games to watch ours.

I smirk, turning to the goons, "Pay up, bitches!".

"You totally swindled us, you _can_ play, " whines Mr. Beefy.

"Hey now, you were going to rip off my buddy here, we just happened to beat you at your own game, " I counter.

"Fine, fine, Ms. Pool Shark, here's the cash, " his friend shoves the money into my hand, and rushes out the door, dragging Mr. Beefy with him.

Once the two idiots leave the premises, I give Michael a high-five.

"That was almost too easy, " Michael tells me.

"It's always nice to practice my skills on brainless knuckleheads and plus the money is always a great bonus".

Michael wraps his arm around my shoulder and leads me out of the building, "The night's still young".

"While we aren't getting any younger, " I respond.

"Meh, that doesn't matter to me, my wife sure doesn't mind my wisdom in the bedroom!"

I cringe at that unnecessary bit of information. We're close and all...but not THAT close.

"So what's the next stop?"

"Let's celebrate our winnings at Celebrities!"


End file.
